


rearviewmirror

by dahdeemohn



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Break Up, Introspection, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Relationship Issues, unlikely friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 21:06:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13689807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahdeemohn/pseuds/dahdeemohn
Summary: The trainers hover over him as he wakes up and they ask a lot of questions. He can only assume whatever happened was ugly. Unsurprisingly, Drew isn’t nearby, and with this realization there’s a cocktail of emotions that churn and then blend into something lackluster and all-too familiar these days: numbness.





	rearviewmirror

Tony’s psyche wanders into a lot of strange places lately. Nooks and crannies he’s never dusted. Alleyways he’s passed over. Closets full of skeletons he’s never truly gotten to know, until now. Blissful ignorance had kept him away from areas that the light doesn’t shine on, but when darkness started to bleed into the forefront, he was left with little choice but to confront the things that go bump in the night.

The trainers hover over him as he wakes up and they ask a lot of questions. He can only assume whatever happened was ugly. Unsurprisingly, Drew isn’t nearby, and with this realization there’s a cocktail of emotions that churn and then blend into something lackluster and all-too familiar these days: numbness. He doesn’t remember much of the match, and that’s fine. Things still ache, like the body and heart, but after two long months he’s so spent; the cavity in his chest has developed into a full blown chasm, so what does it matter if a little more waste spills into it?

It’s difficult to pay attention to what everyone’s saying, but the general census ends up being that he doesn’t need an overnight evaluation at a local hospital. A part of him is disappointed, because just this once he’d like to relinquish all decision-making abilities. He doesn’t think that he’s a danger to himself, but there’s a voice in the back of his head that attempts to goad him into telling the staff that maybe he is; it’s ignored, like every other intrusive thought he’s been dealing with this entire time. 

Besides, he knows that the worst thing that he’ll probably do is end up sleeping with Drew. Again. Even though he’d promised himself over and over not to give in, reminding himself that the honeyed words were always laced with venom and that the afterglow always left him blinded. The first few times it had happened, Tony had reasoned that all relationships were a lot of work and that this could be salvaged if he put in enough effort. In every story ever told, love always finds a way, right? He just had to get stronger and get over this minor setback, that’s all. It _happens_. 

But after enough times, enough scalding showers, and enough restless nights, whatever adhesive love was supposed to serve as for the shattered remnants of a relationship wasn’t holding anything together at all. Some mornings, it was difficult to stomach breakfast, while others it took everything to not smash all of the coffee mugs they’d collected from their travels. It wasn’t worth the fleeting moment of invincibility that came with an “I love you” for the crippling vulnerability that accompanied it when all was said and done. 

Tony’s focus returns to the present as people start to leave; he’s weird and uneasy about that because for as much as he wants to be left alone, he does not know where that will lead him. He scans the room, and is caught off guard when he spots Cedric lingering towards the back of it.

“What do you want?” Tony means to growl and sound as unapproachable as possible, but the words come out deflated.

“Hey man,” Cedric starts, perhaps taking the acknowledgement as permission to approach. He pauses, seeming to struggle with what to say. “It’s probably pretty dumb to ask how you’re doing, huh?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Tony counters listlessly. “A few bumps and bruises, nothing unusual.”

“Alright, sure.” Cedric nods as if he’s relieved, which Tony doesn’t get. There’s another pause, and it’s already getting insufferable. “So, what’re your plans for tonight?”

“The fuck?” Barking out a laugh, Tony shakes his head in disbelief.

“Look, I’m not trying to…” Exhaling, Cedric pushes up his glasses. “Are you gonna be safe? Do you have somewhere to stay?”

“Why-” Tony’s face scrunches up. He doesn’t have an answer to the latter, since Drew had convinced him that they should room together. Meanwhile, Cedric continues to look conflicted and it’s only adding to the overload.

“You were knocked out at the end of your match,” he says with hesitancy, and Tony shrugs nonchalantly at him. “Tony, he looked _possessed_. Like he couldn’t stop.”

“Oh.” Tony tries to swallow, but his throat’s too dry to accomplish anything. Against better judgement, he recalls the look on Drew’s face from two months ago and wonders if there’s even a comparison to be made. He decides that there isn’t, because even though Drew has told him that he loves him, Cedric doesn’t have anything to gain by lying. “I should be alright.”

“Well, Moose and I can give you a ride somewhere if you need it.”

“I’m good,” Tony grinds out. His head is now starting to pound, and he knows that he’d be nauseous if he wasn’t so dazed. To make matters worse, it won’t be long before these sensations fluctuate and he’ll find himself broken down all over again; he’d give anything to have some control over the emotional disasters that mercilessly ravage him out of seemingly nowhere.

Cedric still hasn’t left, and although Tony doesn’t even know him that well, he’s pretty sure that he’s seeing honest-to-god _concern_ of all things. Something is being said that seems an awful lot like attempts at coaxing, but Tony’s thoughts drown them out. His mouth is operating independently of his mind, and can sort of hear himself starting to ramble about his rental car. Nothing makes sense. He looks at anywhere other than Cedric, but suddenly Mustafa is in his peripheral as well.

“You just don’t seem like you’re OK to drive,” one of them says and the other agrees and Tony can’t focus on this. He eventually allows them to accompany him to his locker so that he can prove he’s lucid. When they get there, Drew’s stuff is gone. 

When Tony rummages through his own gear, he finds that the keys to the rental car are gone as well.

It’s been a little over two months since the initial incident, and despite the rollercoaster Tony’s been strapped into, he’s done a commendable job mostly keeping it together in public. Now, the gym bag is torn apart as clothing and gear are tossed in every which direction. He collapses to the ground, sobbing and screaming as every wound he’s endured thus far is raw and exposed. He screams about how he’s given everything to Drew, and how it was never good enough. Fists pound hard upon the floor tiles, and he’s screaming about how being dead would be easier than this.

His hair is everywhere and he’s barely even dressed; he knows what a mess he is and doesn’t care. By now, Tony expects, Cedric and Mustafa are probably gone after that display. The only thing he can hear is his own ragged breathing, so he assumes he’s alone, until a hand is placed on his upper back. Instinctively, he casts a glance upward, and through blurred vision can see Mustafa crouched down next to him. The hand rubs a small circle, and he swears there are whispers of “it’s OK”.

It takes a while to get up off of the floor, and once he does he’s handed his clothes given space to get dressed. The silence in the locker room is deafening, but if it was filled with voices it’d be just as awful. He shouldn’t have checked his texts while he was in the stall, and feels slightly guilty when he re-emerges and sees they’re still waiting. It was fruitless anyway, there wasn’t anything new from Drew; but he did what he does too much and scrolled through old conversations.

If he wasn’t involved in the situation itself, the narrative that he consumed would be a textbook example of someone in need of an exit. He lost count of the amount of times that he’d been accused of being unreasonable, of the deflection and the lack of personal accountability. Shame hit him hard in the gut when he re-read the the heaps of “I miss you”s, the “I miss home”s, the “I miss how things were”, and how he knew those to be his weakness. Drew’s Trojan horse had worked each and every time, and it was a small wonder that Tony’s walls had been reduced to rubble. 

“You ready to go?” Cedric asks, and Tony gives a small nod. He has no one else, so what other choice does he have. As they walk towards the exit, wonders if they can read his mind and if they think he’s as stupid as everyone else assumes that he is. He’s not feeling very smart once they’re in the car, after he’s buckled up goes to reach for Drew’s nonexistent hand.

“Do you want food?” Mustafa asks as he cranes his neck to look back at Tony, his tone gentle but lacking its usual bubbliness. “We were thinking IHOP.” 

“Not hungry.” Admits Tony, as he hasn't been hungry in weeks. But when he sees the small frown, he follows up with, “Don’t let me stop you, though.”

Cedric lifts a hand from off of the steering wheel and waves it dismissively, saying, “No worries.” 

They drive for maybe a mile or two before Tony can’t stand it anymore and at last blurts out, “I’m sorry for what happened back there.”

“Don’t be,” Mustafa earnestly reassures. “It’s understandable, dude. Really.”

“I just...don’t know what I’m gonna do.” He rests his head against the window and closes his eyes as weariness starts to settle in. "I'm so tired."

“Is your stuff still at the hotel room?” Cedric asks, and while Tony is thankful for the small courtesy, he’s equally as tired by the eggshells that everyone’s been walking on since December. 

“Unless Drew’s tossed it all out.” Bitterly chuckling, Tony runs a hand through his hair and smoothes it back. 

“Would he do that?” Mustafa sounds alarmed and for some reason Tony feels even more guilty, if that’s possible.

“I don’t think so.” Shaking his head, Tony sighs. “But I don’t really know him anymore, I guess.”

“I’m sorry.” Even in the darkness, the empathetic look that’s shot his way can be seen. He realizes how he hasn’t opened up to anyone about any of this, and right now it feels like a dam that’s about to burst. 

“Look, Tony. We want to help you go get your stuff back,” Cedric begins to suggest, and Tony’s already bristling at the very idea. 

“I’ll be fine,” Tony sharply states.

“After tonight, it doesn’t seem like a good idea for you to deal with this on your own.” A defiant anger rises in Tony’s chest as Cedric continues speaking, and he doesn’t know why. Is it the insinuation that Tony isn’t strong enough to handle Drew? Is it because he had that meltdown in the locker room? Or.

Was what happened after he blacked out really so terrible, that two guys he’s never spent time with have taken it upon themselves to look out for him?

He shudders at the latter and isn’t prepared for the onslaught of grief he’s forced to confront again. While Cedric continues to list off reasons, Tony adds on to his pile of mistakes he’s made so far and pulls up Twitter on his phone. There’s hundreds of tags, and he’s almost immediately confronted by videos and gifs and screenshots of Drew’s actions. 

Tony rolls down the window and dry heaves.

Initially, he blames himself for not shaking Drew’s hand at the beginning of the match, then goes back even further and rakes himself over the coals for his aggressive social media posts that lead up to this match. The car pulls over, his door is yanked open, and Mustafa is collecting him, helping him to the roadside. When nothing is vomited up, and he’s given a bottle of water.

“Dude, it’s not your fault!” he thinks hears Mustafa repeat a few times, and it dawns on him that he’s been rambling for a while now. He’s literally falling apart in every sense of the phrase, and the one person that’s supposed to be there to pick up the pieces rendered him unconscious a few hours ago.

It’s all a blur until they reach the hotel, and then time comes to a crawl. They’re on the way up to Drew’s room, and Tony absolutely does not want to do this. He’s terrified over this confrontation, that he’s about to annihilate what may be the very last chance to salvage anything.

They’re outside the door, and Tony doesn’t know if he told them which number it was or if they found out some other way. Cedric knocks on the door several times as Mustafa continues to murmur encouraging things. A whole minute passes, and Tony wishes that he had contacted Drew ahead of time, just as a courtesy that this was about to go down. Or maybe they could have worked it out, without all of _this_.

The door opens slowly, and Drew stands in the doorway. He’s bewildered, Tony can tell. It’s taking everything to not collapse right there.

“Gentlemen,” Drew cooly greets, but is silenced by Cedric.

“We’re here to collect Tony’s belongings.”

“Is this true, Tony?” Drew is now looking directly at him, and he wishes the earth would swallow him whole.

“It’s true,” Mustafa confirms, his shoulder blocking any access that Drew could have to Tony.

“Tony?” Drew reiterates, the softness in his tone reminding Tony of another lifetime and everything they once had.

“Guys, I got this,” Tony at last speaks up with a confidence that he truly does not have. Mustafa and Cedric exchange concerned glances, and Tony repeats himself. A few more seconds go by, and they silently agree to hang back. 

“We’ll be right out here,” Mustafa loudly announces as Tony crosses the threshold and the door is shut behind him.

“So, you have 8 abs and you needed to bring extra muscle?” Drew dryly quips, but Tony doesn’t respond. The room is a disaster, he notes.

“Just let me grab my things and go.” Tony keeps himself from looking at Drew, for fear that he’d unravel at a single glance. The tension is so heavy that he can’t breathe, and his lungs are starting to burn from the lack of oxygen that’s being denied to them.

“Can we at least talk first?” Drew’s so calm, but Tony’s seen the videos. He knows better. A step is taken towards him, then another, and he stiffens. Drew’s close enough to smell the soap that he’s washed himself with. “Tony, please.”

“No.” Tony stays firmly planted. More than anything he wants his life back to the way it was, but he knows full well that the man he reveres isn’t here anymore. These vestiges are perverse at best, and Tony hates how he still feels their pull. “There’s nothing to talk about, Drew.”

“Really?” An incredulous laugh makes its way out of Drew, and Tony flinches. “You’re just gonna up and leave? After years of building a life together, Tony?”

“You’re the one that knocked it all down!” Tony snaps. “You gave up everything! You gave **us** up!”

“I’m willing to talk through this!” Drew’s voice raises, and he’s somehow even closer. 

“There’s nothing to talk about anymore.” Tony doesn’t miss how Drew’s face crumples, and every fume he’s reserved for willpower is being used to not kiss away the sadness.

“But I love you.” There’s a crack in the last word, and Tony turns away. He hates this, and for as much as he loves Drew he hates him as well, hates him for what he’s put them through. “Don’t you love me, too?”

“That’s not enough.” Tony blinks back tears that have started to well up. Instead of thinking about this, he thinks of an arm that’s been infected with gangrene, and how it has to be removed to save the person attached to it. He has to save himself. “Drew, c’mon. Let me get my things.”

There are variations of “we can fix this” and “you’re really doing this?” repeated over and over, but Tony is firm in his resolve and continues to gather his meager possessions. It’s when Drew says, “Do you need to hit me? Would that make you feel better?” that Tony stops what he’s doing. 

“I would never do to you what you did to me.” He stares hard at Drew. “And the fact that you seem to think that I would want to speaks volumes about your character.”

He has everything now, he thinks. If there’s anything left, it probably doesn’t matter. Drew stands at the door, his hand on the knob.

“Move,” Tony softly commands.

“Is this it?” Drew’s eyes are red around the edges, and they’ve begun to shimmer in the way that indicates that tears are about to spill.

“I’ll grab my stuff from the apartment later,” Tony shrugs.

“No. With us?”

Oh. Tony shrugs again. “Well Drew, when you can learn how to repair a bridge instead of burning it down just because it inconveniences you, maybe we can talk again.”

Drew’s grip on the knob is so tight that his knuckles are now pale. “You can’t go, I need you,” he whispers.

“You have to,” Tony whispers back. “We can’t do this. **I** can’t do this.”

“Can I kiss you one last time?” Tony shakes his head at that, but only after careful consideration. There are loud sniffles, but he can’t tell which one of them they’re coming from. 

The knob is pushed down. 

The door is opened. 

Without looking back, Tony steps out.

**Author's Note:**

> _Saw things so much clearer  
>  Once you were in my  
> Rearviewmirror_


End file.
